The Shortcut to Abaddon
by Hane no Zaia
Summary: A mildly humorous take on the "What if Cross had just let Allen in on the great master plan back in the first chapter of The Road to Abaddon?" scenario. Because a little honesty could take you a long way, seriously.
1. And So, They Took a Shortcut

_**The Shortcut to Abaddon.**_ _Aka a mildly humorous take on the "What if Cross had just let Allen in on the great master plan back in the first chapter of The Road to Abaddon?" scenario. Because a little honesty could take you a long way, seriously._

**\- o0o -**

**And So…**

**(They Took a Shortcut)**

**\- o0o -**

_"It was a stupid thing to do… the thing that you did."_

**\- o0o -**

_"He would have killed you."_

**\- o0o -**

_"He would have worn your skin."_

**\- o0o -**

_"You really don't have a shred of self-preservation, do you?"_

**\- o0o -**

He knows. However… "I'm still here, am I not?"

**\- o0o -**

_"You're only here because your Innocence decided your life was worth saving."_

**\- o0o -**

_"The reason for it doing such a thing in the first place however is beyond me."_

**\- o0o -**

_Liar._

He closes his eyes, lying down and curling up onto his side. "It's a parasite, right? If so, then it would be troubled if its host died too early in the game…"

**\- o0o -**

_"There are other potential hosts."_

**\- o0o -**

_"In the end, no one is irreplaceable."_

**\- o0o -**

"Perhaps." Allen lets his head fall to rest against the mattress, staring at the man's retreating back. "Then again, perhaps not."

This earns him a scoff but no reprieve.

Allen feels this sudden urge to throw something at him, but knows better. Instead, he decides to experiment, and the name that he can recall overhearing in his reoccurring dreams slips past his lips before he can reconsider the wisdom of it. _"Neah."_

The man pauses, but does not turn around to face him.

Allen rolls onto his back, staring impassively at the ceiling. "It rings a bell, doesn't it?"

There is a split-second's reprieve, and then: "And if it does, you imbecile?"

He rolls over onto his other side, his back facing Cross and his mind contemplating the matter very briefly before finally arriving at a tentative conclusion. "No, it's nothing…" he decides. "Nothing overly important at any ra-"

"It's Nea."

A cigarette is lit.

"Nea Walker."

He turns his head around, lithe body following along. "Nea Walker?"

Cross leans more heavily against the doorway, cigarette still in his mouth. "He entrusted something to you; an important mission. He entrusted you to look after his brother Mana too, obviously, but we both know how that went."

Allen hears the words clearly and registers them with an influx of painful remembrance. "Mana's brother?"

Vaguely, he finds that he can recall Mana having at some point having alluded to the existence such an individual. However, beyond all of that, he is just confused, and seeing that Cross seems to know more about this than him, he figures that it's worth a try. "Mission?"

"To become a host," Cross flatly relays and somewhat disdainfully at that.

"A host?"

"To his Memories."

"Memories?"

A somewhat disdainful and decidedly exasperated look is sent his way. "Crudely put, a part of his consciousness sleeps within you," Cross finally relays, exhaling a slight puff of smoke. "And when he awakens, his consciousness will start consuming yours."

Allen's initial response is a wide-eyed stare, which is retained for a good half minute before surprise and fearful disbelief gradually drains from his features, leaving behind an empty look. Retaining far more composure than is to be expected, the child then lifts his gaze anew, intelligence no longer obscured or obstructed by unnecessary sentiments. "When?"

"Not now," Cross answers, perfectly honest for once. "Years from now."

"Oh." There is a slow blink, but no other visible reaction. "Okay."

Silence, and then…

"Is that the only thing I should do? Wait?"

Cross discards the cigarette, crushing it beneath the heel of his boot. "Along with his consciousness, he passed on his abilities to you."

"Abilities?"

The lack of a favourable response discourages the child from pursuing the matter, but as they are both very well aware, it is only temporary.

Cross Marian is not a patient man; not a sentimental one either.

It remains to be seen what kind of a man Allen Walker will be, but truth to be told, in Cross' opinion, the other is hardly likely to survive long enough to reach the age when one can call someone a man as opposed to a brat.

However, essentially a brat or not, there is a spark of intellect there; of understanding.

There is calm as opposed to hysteria, and realism as opposed to idealism, and that makes him all the more tolerable in Cross' eyes, but only just that.

No anger, no fear, but definitely determination.

It is a well-known fact that Cross Marian does not care much for children in general; that he despises them, even.

However, what is before him is not a child; it is a resource and a potential ally, albeit a small and inexperienced one, but it holds potential that goes way beyond that of a mere host.

On one hand, he wonders if it is not a waste of great potential.

On the other, he wonders if it is not great potential put to good use.

Contrary to initial impressions, Allen Walker is not a fool. He carries the last semblance of foolishness in the shape of a reminder engraved upon his face; a curse that is also a blessing.

At fifteen, he is still a dirty brat, but he knows his true value. His hair is white as opposed to red, drained of its colour much like the rest of him; the scar being the exception, a jagged red line running vertically down the left side of his face connected to an inverted pentagram on top.

They have spent nearly four years together on the road, though obviously not without some degree of friction.

Allen is scrawny but capable, and his Innocence has finally evolved into a somewhat less crude incarnation, and some semblance of earlier livelihood has returned, along with a foul mouth and the guts to make use of it.

However, as far as their respective personalities are concerned, they have grown decidedly more tolerant in regards to each other's flaws of character.

They are both very flexible when it comes to morals; not amoral, but definitely fluid.

Cross' womanising is tolerated. His drinking and spending habits are frowned upon, along with his dubious work ethic, but overall, he is left to his devices.

In return, Cross actually makes the effort to keep tolerating the brat, which proves difficult on more than just one occasion.

Intellect aside, there is a streak of sentimentality that Cross has continued and will continue to discourage, because unnecessary attachments inevitably lead to unnecessary complications.

However, there also happens to be a very prominent streak of stubbornness in the other's character, meaning that such discouragement would likely prove just as effective as none at all.

At regular intervals, they had tested the limits of each other's patience.

Occasionally, the results proved fruitful, and on occasion, the results proved less than fruitful.

There had been debts and knives involved, along with a few more or less shameful propositions before they had arrived at what appeared to be some type of stalemate.

Following it, poker skills were honed for the sake of making money on Allen's end, and Cross continued to perfect the womanising skills necessary in order to secure more sponsorships from lonely rich ladies, widows or not.

Allen deals with the akuma, whilst Cross deals with Allen; with overseeing and evaluating his progress at the very least. All of this is just distraction however; they are waiting, biding their time over in India.

One day, when Allen spends some time in bed recovering from a recent rebound, Cross turns up in the doorway, leaning lazily against it.

Allen knows he is there but stares up at the arched ceiling instead, impassively. "Is it time?"

Cross saunters over to a nearby table. Soon thereafter, a bottle of wine and two glasses stand on top of it.

Allen's attention flickers towards the items. Eyebrows furrowing, he sits himself up, covering up a yawn with his hand.

Alcohol isn't really his thing; neither is it age appropriate. However, he figures that he might as well try some Romanée-Conti once and see what all the fuss is about.

He takes the glass that he is offered, pausing to marvel at the bright red liquid swimming in it before shooting his mentor of nearly four years a pointed look. "Is this the part where you drug me and proceed to take off without me?"

"It wouldn't be drugs as much as a hammer blow to the head," Cross scoffs, downing the contents of his own glass before swiftly pouring himself another. "I regret bringing you already."

Smiling, Allen raises his own glass in a mockery of a toast. "Cheers," he says, and downs the thing.

**\- o0o -**

When they finally move, they make sure to be discreet, catching a ship headed for Singapore, and once there, they catch one to Manila before eventually making their way to Shanghai.

Anita ‒ who in addition to being the wealthy owner of a successful brothel is also secretly supporting the Order (by association mostly) ‒ appears very happy to see them; well, Cross mostly, seeing that she is one of his most loyal supporters/admirers and his occasional lover to the boot.

Her aid ‒ the tall, bald woman of impressive physique otherwise known as Mahoja ‒ appears decidedly less pleased at the sight of them.

The days that follow are spent on preparation; mostly, at any rate.

Of course, some take these preparations a bit more seriously than others, seeing that it is mostly Allen and Mahoja who make sure that things are in order.

In the end though, Allen reasons that they might as well, seeing that differences aside, they seem to work fairly well together, despite everything.

Besides, Cross staying at the brothel with Anita would ensure that their cover isn't blown, seeing that Allen himself has hardly made himself famous enough to trip any alarms; not with his current attire at any rate, with Timcanpy safely hidden beneath his hood to ensure that no feline manages to eat him, as had happened an absolutely sickening number of times before and had thus brought about the need for certain precautions.

Once the majority of the preparations have been dealt with, Allen returns to the brothel, leaving Mahoja to oversee the rest of the proceedings. There, Anita graciously agrees to cut his hair for him, which he appreciates, seeing that it was getting a bit too long for his tastes and had proven a great hassle to properly maintain.

The following day, they board a ship headed for the Korean peninsula but with no intention of staying onboard until they reach their intended destination.

Instead, according to plan, they commandeer themselves some supplies along with one of the lifeboats and set out onto the open sea with Allen working with spells to keep the boat stabilised and going.

It isn't until Allen picks up the first signs of akuma that Cross makes any moves, using his Grave of Maria to erect the Magdala Curtain, effectively hiding them from sight.

After several hours, they reach the city of Fukuoka.

There, Cross sets to work with converting akuma.

Their new allies are short-lived, but decidedly useful. They get all the way to Osaka before their helpers have reached the end of their sanity, prompting Allen to put them out of their misery before Cross' programmed self-detonation programme kicks in.

They find new ones in Kyoto and Nagoya, making it to Yokohama before it's time to repeat the process.

They pick up a new guide in Yokohama and from there, they make it to the outskirts of Edo where they take some time to prepare for the last leg of their operation, which would also prove the trickiest.

In the end, it is both a question of timing and one of cunning. They have however been planning this for months; years even, all whilst waiting for an opportunity to arive.

Thanks to Cross' contacts ‒ many of them converted akuma ‒ they had been supplied with the information that the Earl was on the move, and that the Noah family ‒ his allies ‒ was starting to reassemble after a longer hiatus.

That night, there is a gathering.

With the Earl still unaware of their arrival, this is as good a chance as they would ever get.

Making use of the distraction provided by the gathering, they sneak into the Ark under the cover of the Magdala Curtain, with the additional help of their converted accomplice.

After all, the Earl really _isn't_ expecting an ambush on his headquarters, and with the gathering and feast taking place, it makes for fairly lax security which they would have been idiots not to exploit when notice had reached them ahead of time.

Either way, it is a well-known fact that the Earl is wary of Cross, and that is all very sensible.

However, had he known about the man's companion ahead of time, then it would have made things so much more difficult than they are now as they separate from their accomplice and continue onward, all whilst the Earl and the Noah are cooped up in a meeting somewhere, clueless as to their presence.

A borderline insane grin threatening to break out on his face, Allen struggles to refrain from cackling as they stand outside the chamber housing the Egg ‒ otherwise known as the Akuma Plant ‒ which Cross has been commissioned to destroy.

Allen is perfectly happy to partake in the destruction of that one, knowing well that they are engaging in some high-level sabotage, and they are not even halfway done with it.

Allen remains where he is with Timcanpy still riding on top of his head, all whilst Cross makes quick work of the Skulls that have been tasked with guarding the place. Only then does he step out from around the corner, taking a brief moment to overlook the massacre before making his way over, followed by the now airborne Timcanpy. "And now?"

Cross tears his eyes from the huge egg located in the chamber's midst, levelling him with a disdainful glare, implying that the question had not only been stupid but also highly redundant.

**\- o0o -**

Five minutes later finds them in the white room, otherwise known as the secret room of the Fourteenth. Again, they are biding their time; waiting for the Noah family to make one final mistake.

It takes a few hours and a few prepared red herrings, but once they are all out and only a handful of akuma and other servants remain, Cross and Allen enter what is to be the final stage of their operation.

Allen has stood with his hands in position ‒ hovering just above the keys ‒ for a good minute before the order is given.

Though a bit unsteadily at first, a familiar melody soon rises from the instrument, and as per instruction, he weaves his hopes into the music; though rather than hopes, they are his ambitions.

Within minutes, he has hijacked the Ark's systems, sealing the existing gates and opening up a new one to Australia, cutting the Edo connection whilst he is at it.

Soon after having hatched the plan, they had travelled to various locations across the globe, looking for suitable places to set up temporary camp. However, Australia is only the beginning; a mere pit stop on the way to their final destination.

**\- o0o -**

Campbell Island is a sub-Antarctic and decidedly remote island belonging to New Zealand. It is the biggest out of the surrounding islands, but still relatively small by most standards. It is also to be considered uninhabited, that is if one chooses to disregard the presence of sheep herds and other local wildlife, and it is just what they had been looking for.

The climate is maritime and consistently windy and humid. It is also quite cloudy and cool, often rainy, but the temperature is steadily kept between six and twelve degrees centigrade.

It is hardly a climate which would have appealed to most, but with a number of years having been spent in the UK, while a tad extreme on occasion, it hardly fazes them. Rather, it is a welcome change to the more tropical climate that they had become more used to as of late. Sure, it is windy and wet, but its isolated position makes it ideal for hiding the Ark, seeing that while individual gates can be opened and hidden nearly anywhere, leaving the Ark itself in plain sight would have been very unwise indeed.

Admittedly, the weather usually makes sure that they spend most of their time indoors; in the Ark itself, that is, keeping up-to-date with the situation through the reports of the akuma that had been trapped in the Ark and had then been summarily converted by Cross.

The things that they report prove intriguing to say the very least.

"And the Order?" Allen finally asks, because the question certainly needs to be asked.

Cross scoffs, cigarette in mouth.

"What do we do, I mean?" Allen clarifies, though further clarification from his end is hardly necessary. "About the Order."

Nothing.

And then…

"We'll send them the bill."

And so they did.

**\- o0o -**


	2. And So, They Sent the Bill

_This story was supposed to be a one-shot. Oh well. _

_Last time on the Shortcut to Abaddon:_

_Cross and Allen hijack and steal the Ark. They also agree to bill the Order._

_This time, the (verily abridged) reaction:_

**\- o0o -**

**And So…**

**(They Sent the Bill)**

**\- o0o -**

"What is this?"

The one asking is Komui Lee, severely sleep-deprived and halfway buried beneath paperwork.

"It's about Cross," the ever diligent Reever relays, holding out the envelope for him to take.

"Cross?" Komui lifts his head, evidently puzzled before his face settles into a grim expression. "He isn't dead, is he?"

Reever pinches the ridge of his nose. "No."

"Then what has he done now?"

Instead of answering, Reever drops the envelope on him.

Still exhausted, Komui receives it, pulls out what's in it and unfolds it, staring at it blankly for more than a few moments without quite getting what he's looking at. Then, after blinking a number of times and rubbing his eyes only to find that he's still looking at the same thing, he looks to Reever in evident disbelief. "What?"

Reever plucks the piece of paper from his superior's hand, clearing his throat. "One hundred thousand guinea‒"

"Branch Chief! We've got incoming reports of strange activity!"

"Branch Chief Komui! Noise Marie's reporting a strange sound! Apparently it sounds like someone screaming in outrage!"

"Branch Chief Komui! Reports are flooding in that‒"

Komui feels ready to drop with an onslaught of sudden migraine. But with sheer force of will, he heaves himself up instead and blinks owlishly at Reever who is still standing there with the outrageous bill in his hand. "Reever?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Who delivered it?"

"One of the Finders did, but‒"

"But?"

**\- o0o -**

A short while later, the Finder is brought into Komui's office and tells the most interesting story.

"I was approached by a clown," he says, looking a tad ill at ease with all the people in the room looking at him very intently. "He gave me the sealed envelope and told me to bring it back to Headquarters along with a greeting."

"A greeting?" someone echoes out loud.

"Yes," the man nods seriously to himself. _"This was a pain in the arse and expensive as fuck. Bill is included."_

"Bill?" someone else echoes and one after another, the others gradually come to rest their eyes upon Reever who is still holding the aforementioned bill in his hand.

Somewhat resigned, the man starts reading.

"Twenty guineas for train expenses."

"Another twenty for boat expenses."

"One hundred guineas for housing."

"Three hundred for food expenses."

"Four hundred for drink expenses."

"Another four hundred for entertainment."

"Eight hundred guineas for destroying the Akuma Plant."

And then, finally‒ "One hundred thousand guineas for stealing the Noah's Ark."

There is a beat of silence and it stretches on and on and on and then‒ "Well, that explains why the Earl's angry."

**\- o0o -**

The Millennium Earl isn't angry; he isn't angry as much as he is bloody furious and for good reason at that.

"How?" he demands out of his poor minions. "How could this‒?"

And then, it occurs to him and his aura flares up ominously in response. "Fourteenth… Damn you, Fourteenth!"

**\- o0o -**

Elsewhere, Allen Walker, wrapped up snugly in a thick blanket, sneezes; first once and then again.

Wiping his nose, he looks towards Cross where he sits slouched in an armchair by the hearth. "Someone's spreading rumours."

"Someone's always spreading rumours," Cross responds, contemplating his Romanée-Conti. "Spreading rumours and plotting murders."

A definite chill runs down Allen's spine at that and he curls up further. "Well, that sounds decidedly ominous."

Cross turns his head slightly then, the warm light of the fire illuminating and reflecting in the man's white half-mask and in the glint of his single visible eye. "Not if we get them first."

In Allen's humble opinion, that sounds even more ominous. Nevertheless‒ "What did you have in mind?"

**\- o0o -**


End file.
